Of Ice and Mind
by Loominginmoonlight
Summary: You're in an unfamiliar place, no memory of how or why you're there, and have a scary tall man chasing you down. Of course the obvious thing to do is try and bite his damn foot off Warning, adult language and violence
1. Chapter 1

Everyone is able to know their bed, your bed is your own. Your bed is made for you, adapted to your curves and any funky sleeping positions you may have. Point is, waking up absolutely anyone would be able to tell within a second that the bed they were sleeping on is their bed or a strange bed. Hopefully for any of you guys you at least would have the knowledge and memory as to _why_ you are in a strange bed, say a vacation or something.

I did not have this particular luxury. This was a moment where I woke up and had no idea where I was or how I got there. Every how, when, what, where, and why which would identify safety were unanswerable and that was unacceptable.

There wasn't anyone in this room with me, so I took in the surroundings with keen eye. Bedroom, but empty of...anything really. The plainest of Janes while at the same time keeping up with the "modern" look of sleek chrome. How ugly.

But there was a bathroom to the right of the strange bed, and a closet in the wall facing the foot of the bed, the door leading to freedom to the right of the closet. I was not fool enough to believe it unlocked, why would it be?

My ears just about pricked up like a dog's at the sound of voices outside the door, two men from the sound of it. My hiding choices were between the bathroom and the closet. The bathroom being the obvious best available option of the lot, seeing as there were two amazing weapon availabilities in there.

Silently I took a pillow with me into the bathroom, closing the door most of the way but not fully, and placed it up against the mirror. With a swift elbow strike against the pillow the mirror shattered into large manageable pieces. Smirking at how the sound was deafened by the pillow I catalogued my other resources. The toilet lid, four usable mirror shards, me dressed in sweats and socks, and the door starting to open. Why I had no shoes was a question to be answered another time, but the socks were shed as I held the toilet lid in the darkness of the bathroom.

Just as the knob finished it's turn I leaned my head back and started to breathe through my mouth making my breathing silent.

"Where the hell did she go?!"

"The door was locked Tony there's only so many places she could have gone."

Two men, as I thought, one was a lot taller than the other and this one in particular was coming straight for the bathroom.

Three, I raised the lid to about as tall as I could go, two, the door started to swing open, one. With an almighty crash I brought the ceramic down onto tall-and-blond's head, following it up by sinking a shard into his abdomen. Shorter-and-brunet shouted and came running, but I just used whatever was left of the ceramic that hadn't broken to bits to essentially backhand him cross the face. Chucking the useless bits of porcelain from my grasp I exchanged them for my remaining mirror bits and fucking booked it out the still open doorway.

From there I could see a multitude of other doors, and it didn't look like much really. But there was an elevator at the opposite end of the corridor like space. The elevator was a super slow option and could be stopped, useless for escape. But there was bound to be a stairwell, basic fire safety and all. Turns out it was just round the corner thank god.

Now, I was never a fantastic runner when just running for shits and giggles. However when I was having to run from _something_ , that was where the variables changed dramatically. As of this moment I was flying down the stairs like a bat out of hell. Though how I have avoided rolling my ankle thus far I have no idea.

The more flights I sprinted down the more pissed off I got, how tall of a building was this place? Panic wasn't even a thought in my active lengthy train until I heard the door at the top of the stairs slam open, what the actual fuck?! How could one of them be up already?

Being on floor five I just pushed faster even though my legs were just burning unlike anything I've ever pushed them to do before. The one who was after me was gaining, much much quicker than was possible much to my ever growing state of panicked fear.

I could have cried for joy crashing through a lobby, barrelling out a set of doors and really not taking in any of the unnecessary details. Almost being run over by a cab though, that was a bit more on the 'necessary details' list.

The only problem with that causing me to come to a halt was being slammed to the ground by something that was super heavy. The entire ordeal just hurt a LOT, and glancing round I noticed it was the tall blond man who I stabbed and really should have been unconscious.

Time to play dirty, what typically gets people's attention? Screaming, loads of it the shriller and more scared the better. Though for some fucking reason these people just glanced curiously before seeming to write it off and go about their daily lives, with the single person recording on their phone of course. Fuck that guy.

When blondie gathered no one was going to stop him he grabbed hold and started to drag my sorry ass back inside the building. Not that I wasn't trying to fight him off, the road rash currently accumulating on my side and back with my shirt riding up being testament to that.

That's when he made his biggest mistake, he brought his leg much too close to my head. Running out of viable options I went for the most disgusting one, I bit down _hard._ Now the average human jaw has the strength to sever fingers since it's the same as biting into a carrot, and this was me giving my all with sinking my teeth as deeply into his Achilles tendon as I possibly could. His yell of pain had me digging deeper, until hands closed round my throat and squeezed.

I must have looked like I was having a grand mal seizure what with how I was flailing to escape, if I thought I was scared before it was absolutely nothing compared to now. Suffocation is the worst way to go, since you can feel your body desperately trying to bring the blood flow back to your brain and for air to return to your lungs.

My nails were racking deep into his arms, enough that the warm stickiness of new blood that wasn't currently in my mouth was getting under my fingernails. My knees were trying to slam into him as well, but getting steadily weaker as the seconds tick on. Ears ringing, vision going to static and grey tunnelling, my body stopped fighting as unconsciousness took over.

A/N I had the basic plot and some ideas bouncing around for this one for a long long time. Whether it stays that way, I really doubt it. I'll be going back later with edits and changes so reviews and comments are appreciated


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up again there was an obnoxiously bright white light directed into my face. You know, like those really old cliche interrogation scenes in those old movies. It was bleeding through my lids, causing my face to scrunch in discomfort and try to pull away from the annoying as fuck light.

My body feels like its been dragged through hell and back again, twice over for good measure. What part of me didn't hurt is really the more accurate thing to say instead of making a list. But at the moment I really couldn't open my eyes. The ringing in my head and the nausea being just too much. If I even tried I would be spewing all over the place...oh just ugh EW HOLY FUCK! The taste of blondie's blood was still in my mouth oh dear god I'm going to hurl.

"Oh good, you're awake." Oh shitballs, that was not a happy voice. My breathing was a lot more ragged than I wanted it to be, letting on that I was in pain was never good they could use it. Testing at the restraints made me feel a lot more uneasy, these weren't your run of the mill handcuffs. "Now, you're going to answer some questions."

Why do I know this voice? It's frustratingly familiar, but the fuzziness in my brain made it really difficult to even so much as try to connect the dots.

"Hey!" his increase of volume caused a flash of white searing pain through my skull. I'm considering opening my eyes just to trigger my stomach into releasing whatever is in there, the man is directly in front of my face it would certainly make me happy to land the upchuck on him.

"Tony I don't think she's...altogether there." Huh that must be blondie, he muttered it somewhere off to my left. Give me more context clue guys, landmarks show me where the door is.

"Nah she's there," he was still square in front of me, "she's just being purposely difficult."

I spat where I last heard his voice, and his subsequent yell of fury showed my aim was true. "Right that's it!" There was a series a clicks before an electrical whine of something powering up.

"Tony no! This isn't helping!" 'Tony' was thusly distracted and I was desperately yanking at the restraints, hoping either a. to escape the bonds, or b. get away from them. Both together would be preferable truth be told.

The yanking was painful but I was absolutely desperate, I could feel them slicking after the burn of skin breaking bringing blood between the cuffs and my wrists. They were still yelling at each other, and everything seemed absolutely hopeless. Hopeless up until I felt the initial slide of my hands in the cuffs. It wasn't by much, maybe half an inch at most, but it was that half inch that caused an internal smirk.

In order to distract from any movements my hands would be doing that provided actual escaping, I blearily opened my eyes. Blinking away the spots was painful and almost made me lose my nonexistent lunch, but hey it mostly went off without a hitch. The hitch was being able to really see the two men currently arguing like man children in the way that is so loud that you are just incapable of even following what the hell they're talking about.

My hands were free, sticking just in the cuffs to make it look like I was still locked in. With that I started to cry, real hardcore spastic sobs with hitching breaths and panicked grunts. Flailing about wildly but backwards away added to the "spooked horse" look I was going for.

"For God's sake Tony look at her! All we're doing is scaring her what is this supposed to do?" Analyzing who I knew them to be would come later...much later. Blondie came forward and in the moment of feeling too much pity, made himself the easy target.

Slipping my bloody hands from the cuffs my left dug into his hair, the right on his shoulder. All leading up for the strike to keep them occupied long enough for me to escape, I used my teeth to tear a gigantic chunk out of his neck. It was the most obvious choice as my teeth have proved to be able to hurt him before. A slam with my elbow atop the wound had him down for the count, oh shit, must have hit something important.

Tony was yelling in a panic as I turned and was off again, this time without a chase since Blondie was at the moment bleeding very freely out onto the floor. You learn from your mistakes the first time if you wish to survive, as out on the street I didn't stop seeing the crowds or the cars. Just was running and running, well not really now I was trying to attract absolutely no attention since I looked like I jumped straight out of a horror movie.

Normally I would have been caught by now but this is New York there are an absolute abundance of homeless shelters, practically on every block. Sneaking into one wasn't hard either since I waited for a small group and blended in. One shower later and a stolen outfit with _shoes_ had me once again on the move.

Studying the people who looked to be about my age showed it wasn't abnormal to wear your jacket with the hood covering your identifiable features, one of the less amazing parts of New York are the sheer number of cameras literally on every street corner. Seriously the abundance has to be compensating for something right? Must be for the large amount of crime I've heard about in New York. Crime, that I was about to commit. However, I really did not feel all that bad since I have brushed my teeth four times now and can still taste the disgusting sludge that is Blondie's blood.

Pickpocketing can't be all THAT difficult...right? It is just like the movies, attention misdirections, bump grab n go

...hopefully. I'm small I can make this work. The men seem to be easier targets, looser pockets. If you want to call the abominations that are women's pockets "pockets", either way they're harder to pick from by observation alone.

The first man I didn't even have to bump, his head was so far into the clouds and earbuds in his ears he had no idea I snatched his wallet from his stupid looking carpet coat. Cash in hand I left the funny looking thing by a trash can.

Before the next hit I travelled a few blocks, just in case, before staking out waiting for someone who fit the bill.

Weirdly enough, I was never noticed, no one would ever look twice at me or even deem me worthy enough to glance at the first time. Was it just New Yorkers? Or me in general? It's not like I could exactly ask anyone per say.

Either way I had to get the hell out of New York as soon as humanly possible, train being the best option surveillance wise. It was best to pick here rather than the further out where I could be going so as not to get caught. The ease of using just how _big_ this city was meant you could hide short term. But only short term, the longer I stayed the higher the chances I was to be caught again.

Another reason for wearing the hoodie, I looked like I just came out of a punching bag competition and lost. My neck had black handprints, wrists torn bruised and bloody, my right eye had a vessel pop, it just wasn't a good look. All those things raise unwanted attention and questions, all that could bring them back on my tail.

However it turned out to be my saving grace at the metro station, women tend to be more empathetic and maternally inclined at first sight. This woman in particular was a perfect target, I could see the pictures of her children and grandchildren in her terminal. Approaching her all I had to do was let the anxiety and fear I was already feeling bleed into my face.

She gasped seeing my neck and face under the hood, "Could I have a ticket out towards the west coast please?" It was the first time hearing my own voice and it was...gross.

"What happened to you sweetheart?" Anxiously I played with my hands, answering questions is just not safe. "Do you need me to call-"

"No! Please, just the ticket please." She looked torn, but I pleaded with my eyes alone which for some reason seemed to work. She sighed and started to tap into the computer.

"That will be one hundred dollars," Without another word I placed the bill on the counter, even if the charge made me internally wince. Vibrating in place waiting for the ticket to print was agony, I felt like I was being watched.

Ticket obtained the rest of the time before boarding was making sure I could blend in, coughing up more money to get a backpack, fully loaded sandwiches, water bottles, a second shirt and hoodie, and a book. The book wasn't frivolous spending, more of a tactical advantage. There were cameras on trains, if not very good ones, and reading a book was a good excuse to never have your face in a good view of the cameras. I mean besides the overlarge hoodie covering the top half of my face by slouching over.

The feeling of utter complete relief once the train left the border of New York is a feeling that I will never truly forget.

A/N After some uploading issues I've been trying to get this freaking chapter to look...you know like a chapter instead of in code. Fingers crossed?


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, you two look like shit." Natasha said in an unreadable tone standing in the medical bay watching as Tony paced and Steve begrudgingly let the Doctor clean up his wound.

"It was a disaster! A total disaster! Why did you even think waking her up would be a good idea?" Steve rolled his eyes because he knew that Tony was just projecting his frustration at being bested by a kid who barely reached five foot.

"You know why Tony, the question I'm more concerned about is why have we not gone after her?"

Tony's expression filled with bemused incredulousness, "Where the hell could she go? It's not like there are many options for her without us finding her immediately." Natasha hummed negatively and shook her head.

"She is smart, incredibly so just look at her file. She can escape and is currently doing her damndest right as of this moment to get out of state."

"Again, why are we sitting here?" Steve started to push off the Doctor and get to his feet only to be met with Natasha's icy glare.

"Rogers get your ass back on that table or so help me-"

"Now is _so_ totally not time for you two to be flirting." Tony interjected with a grimace earning a frustrated sigh from the pair. "Nat, could you please go do surveillance of the kid? I suppose this means we need to place her in the hulk tank just to be sure no more bullshit happens." He stopped seeing the unhappy expression on Steve's face. "Steve you know she is dangerous you have the evidence literally chomped into your fucking neck as if she was a pit."

"She was scared-" Steve's brows furrowed deeper.

"Which makes her even more so," Natasha said with a sigh, "we should have done more reading through her files before waking her that one's on us." She stood with a definitive squaring of her shoulders, "I am going to reconesence our runaway murder baby, you lot study find out everything and anything you can and keep me posted." As she left the medbay Natasha rolled her eyes at the sound of Steve and Tony still bickering in her wake.

Knowing she would be in over her head she called Barton in on the mission. She can get up close and personal, ish, while he would in a sense be her eyes in the sky. Big picture to her small kind of partnership. As of this moment she was in disguise tailing the kid who surprisingly already looked more put together than she did leaving the Tower a few hours previously.

Then again just changing clothes in general is enough to have her looking worlds better than before with the arterial spray's worth of blood that was on her clothing before. Now the only thing wrong visually were the splattering of bruises littered on her face and throat, no doubt multiple other contusions and other wounds scattered under the new baggy sweatshirt that she couldn't see. At least not the injuries themselves, what Natasha could see was how stiffly the girl held her back, how her face pinched when the fabric pulled over her wrists. She was also running off of adrenaline for an energy source, seeing as she was being fed through a tube up until she was woken up. Natasha sighed seeing her pick pockets with nimble fingers tossing the wallets off to the side once she has gotten what she needed from them. Course she's just doing what all her instincts are telling her to do but that doesn't make Natasha FEEL any better.

"Nat? Got eyes?" She shook out of her reverie and slipped seamlessly through the New York crowd to follow the kid again. She was small enough that she was almost naturally better than Natasha at flowing between people even if it was body to body. Not that she would ever actually say that out loud, even with the past there was no way she would admit it.

"In sight, pickpocketing from various men though she seems to be in pain from her injuries."

Clint exhaled a sarcastic laugh, "You saw the footage she went toe to toe with Steve I'm surprised her head is still attached to her body." Then he paused for a second, "Nat, you don't think she is… going to be stuck like this right? I can gank _adult_ Hydra agents but not wee baby ones."

She grimaced and spoke while trying to multitask following and staying off the kid's raydar at the same time, "No I don't believe so and we'll leave it at that. I'll only answer questions when everyone is there to hear it I won't repeat myself." He was quiet at that, but she knew he was settled in the meantime.

Natasha couldn't help it, this entire op felt like she was mentally testing the kid seeing what routes she would take and feel slightly proud that the memories have retained. Not that she would know where the knowledge came from, she never did.

Suddenly Natasha cursed and turned away when without warning the kid whipped around eyes flitting wildly in an attempt to find the eyes watching her. She had to give it to the kid she was more aware than initially anticipated.

"Nat? What happened you good?"

"Almost got spotted, kid is good has a train ticket so we will have to collect once she is out of sight from the general populous."

Clint groaned and started to whine, "Do I have to ride on top of the train again?" This baby somehow has babies of his own.

"Clint get on the god damn train." Slapping some cash onto the counter Natasha refused to look at the teller just in case she lost the kid. So far she was still behaving normally, now following the instinct to further blend in to the crowd of people by obtaining luggage at the gift shop if the backpack in her grip was anything to go by. Again Natasha felt a sense of pride flash through her gut before stamping it down to focus, now was not the time.

"On the train, is she boarding?"

"Yes, I have JARVIS on standby following us with the quinjet." The kid was absently munching on a sandwich while stepping through the door, she didn't even seem to realize how quickly she was inhaling the thing.

Clint was fiddling with something loud enough for it to be picked up on the coms, "Even at the next point where she gets off it's going to be a pain in the toosher to get her back."

"You don't think I don't already know that? Shut up and sit tight she's going to only get off at the end of the line."

A/N

Soooooooooo an update? Piggies must be flying.


End file.
